Revelations
by James Moorlan
Summary: The birth of James Moorlan
1. Chapter 1

I killed a Kindred once.

I tore out his throat as he tried to rape a little girl. I was younger back then, and I didn't know of the Camarilla, the ways of the Masquerade, or even what I really was – in fact, it was only by pure dumb luck that I found my way here, amongst others I could relate to and rely upon. For the most part.

I was in a small village in rural Herefordshire. I forget the name of the place now, but I'm sure I'd know the way back if I ever felt the need. I'd arrived a few days beforehand, stepping off a train from Birmingham New Street. It was one of the first places I visited after I was sired. The newspapers were flooded with stories of little girls being kidnapped from their homes. The latest was a wee lass, no older that 12, from an orphanage. The cops were getting nowhere, and the body count was rising.

I decided to intervene. One last step into the life I once led. Coffin nail, if you will. It was the last thing I've done for a mortal since.

I broke into the local police station one night and made off with a copy of the case files. For three nights, I followed up leads that led nowhere. I summoned the local beasties and had them report back anything out of the usual. Now, you have to understand, until that night, I thought I was alone in the world. That I was the only one of our kind alive and active. If I had known what I know now, I would have gotten on the next train and left the mortals to it.

Anyway, I was out on patrol one night, out in the wastelands surrounding the town, when I heard a muffled cry coming from nearby warehouse. Theres no one else around. No one to hear. No one to do anything. Fuck it. I went in.

Darkness. I couldn't see a damned thing. I fumbled inside my coat for a pair of shades and put the red-eye on. I was round the back, through a rusting, metal door that opened into a large assembly line. Probably for some tractor parts or something.

It was silent. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. There were three assembly lines, spaced evenly along the wide shop floor, with a managerial office set in the floor above, overlooking the entire facility. If anything was here, it'd be up there. I crept between the lines as silently and carefully as I could, keeping my hand tight on the blade in my coat pocket. It seemed to take an eternity. Almost as soon as I got to the far side, next to another door that presumably led up, there was another scream. Different this time, more one of animal rage.

No time for caution. I kicked the door in and ran, flat out, up the stairs beyond. Another door. Keep the momentum James, time to be a fucking hero. I dove, head first through the steel frame and rolled as I hit the ground. I rose to my haunches, blade out and ready for a fight. In the far corner, there she was. Naked from the waist down and crying. Even in the gloom of red-eye, I could see the dozens of cuts and bruises lacerated across her tender form. I rose and walked toward her, slowly, putting the blade away.

"It's OK." I said, as reassuringly as I could. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here for the man who did this to you." She wept harder.

"He's not a man."

The fist came out of nowhere. Stupid James, Stupid. Always check behind you. Such power behind the punch. Damn near sent me out the window to the shop floor below.

"You bastard! She's mine! Find your own prey, Gangrel!"

My shades were on the floor. In two separate pieces. I reached for the blade and pulled it free of its sheath. Now I was pissed.

"I don't know who you are friend, or what you're doing here, but this girl leaves with me!" He took a swipe at me. He was fast, strong too. But I was faster. I ducked under his guard and came up with the blade, slashing it across the side of his face. I strode on, landing a solid punch in his abdomen and grounded him with a good ol' knee to the crotch. He was up, faster than I would have thought possible for a man his size, and threw himself into me, taking us both out the window.

I landed hard an assembly line, my blade scattering off into the shadows. I jumped up, claws out. He was gone. Fuck it. Get the girl, get out. Worry about the cleaning up later. I ran back up the stairs, eyes off, claws away and grabbed hold of her. She started to struggle, trying to fight against me.

"For fuck's sake. If you want to live, shut up and come with me!" I gave her a sharp slap, which seemed to knock her out and carried her out the front.

He was waiting for us. I didn't realize until it was too late. He was waiting behind the door, ready to clothesline me as I burst through. I went down. The girl landed a few feet away, between me and, what I could only assume at that point was the first kindred I've met. She was still unconscious, but the kindred was crouched over her, opening his wrist with something. His attention was off me. Mistake.

I threw myself into him, taking him down. I rose to my feet and got an arm around his throat, pulling him off the ground.

"I told you to leave her alone." Claws out, one last time.

+++

Her name was Claire.

She lost her parents in a car crash when she was but a babe in arms. It was a miracle she survived unscathed. I took her back to the orphanage. Damn that place was depressing. Hundreds of lost souls, all huddled together under one roof, depending on each other and the charity of strangers to survive.

She awoke as I placed her in her bed, a whispered "Where am I?" that seemed to drown out all noise from the outside world.

"You're safe now. You're home. That man, he… he won't hurt you again."

"Is he dead?" Her pale, blue eyes stared strait into mine as she spoke. Eyes that told the tale of her life. Unanswered questions that would never find closure.

"He died a long time ago. He just hadn't realised it yet." She nodded. A yawn. The poor child had needless been through a lot these past few days. She seemed remarkably calm, considering what that animal must have done to her. I could hear birdsong through the open window. Dawn was coming. "I have to leave." Her eyes widened, what seemed the beginnings of tears formed in the corner. Big, beautiful eyes.

"Please… the, the monsters. They'll come again."

"I have to child. Don't worry, I'll come back soon." I strode over to her bed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, fatherly like. "You'll be safe here. They'll take care of you." I turned and left through the window.

As I walked to my lodgings, I pondered over the night's events. Claire, soft, beautiful, innocent, taken against her will by what could only be another vampire. I'm not alone. The thought ran through my head over and over, no matter how I tried to dismiss it.

So, there were others like me. Others with whom I shared a bond. It brought as much elation as it did sorrow. How many others were like that monster I left outside the warehouse? Are there any who would speak out, as I did against such an act? How many others would I have to face in order to stop such brutality?

Claire was something else. I visited her regularly while I was in town. The papers and film crews went ballistic over her mysterious re-appearance in the orphanage. I had dressed and treated her wounds as best I could when I returned her home, but she must have been in shock. I wouldn't fancy being her psycho-analyst for the next few years.

I had intended to leave her there in the orphanage, but something drove me back. There was something about that little girl, so innocent, who had been through so much in so short a time. I stood at her window and rapped gently. A few moments and it opened. She stuck her head out, her long, golden locks flowing gently in the wind. I'd obviously just woken her up, but her eyes widened when she saw me.

"It's you!"

"It is" I smiled. "Well, young lady, may I come in, or are we going to have you catch your death of cold?" She smiled back, so cute, so perfect. She stepped aside from the window as I clambered in.

"So, lassie, how you been? I hope you're feeling better?" I shut the window behind me and walked over to her bedroom door, flicking the lock shut. She was ecstatic to see me, her saviour. I could feel her pulse quickening as I spoke. It was a damned good thing I already eaten my fill. I'm not sure I could live with myself had I fed on her.

"Where have you been? The house masters have been asking me all sorts of questions! They even had the police come and talk to me." She sat on the foot of her bed, picking up a small plush doll and held it close to her chest.

"Listen, I have to leave." She snapped her gaze over at me, tears forming in her eyes.

"What? Why?"

"They'll be looking for the man who took you away and I'm the closest they've got."

"But, I'll tell them it wasn't you! I'll tell them!"

"I know you will child, but that might not be enough. We made an almighty mess that night, and someone has to answer for it."

"Would they hurt you? I mean… if they found you?"

"Nah, buggers'd have to catch me first. Besides," I shot her a quick smile "I'm like a cockroach. Can't kill me." She giggled. Oh Gods that slew me. That this child could find some joy after all she'd been through. I envied that in her. Maybe that's why I kept going back to see her. To make sure she was alright. I could see she had a bright future ahead of her. If only she could be kept safe.

"Listen, I got you a little something." I pulled a small mobile phone out of my coat pocket. "If you ever need me, I'm under James. Ring, and I'll come a-running." It wasn't my real name, but it would do. I've been thinking of taking a pseudonym anyway.

She gasped when she saw the device. She took it gratefully, planting a small kiss on my cheek as I sat next to her. "You may want to hide that until all this blows away, OK? Tell them you saved up your pocket money or something." She nodded and I hugged her, holding her warm body close to mine.

"James, y… you're so cold!"

"I know, child, it's a bit nippy out." Now's my cue to leave. I've never been one for saying goodbyes. I just planted a kiss on her forehead and walked over by the window. "You get some rest now, and keep safe." She nodded as she clambered back under her covers.

She whispered something as I climbed out, something that stayed with me since. "Thank you."

I cried when I got back to my lodgings. I cried long and hard, I have no shame in admitting it. I want so much to watch over her, to keep her safe, but I know that to do so would bring her deeper into this world of darkness and death. I had to leave the city, soon. She would be fine, I reassured myself. After all, she was like me. She was a survivor.

I'm not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The papers the next day came with a surprising headline:

_Guardian Angel saves Orphan_

I smiled softly to myself as I rode the late night train out of the county. No mention of the kindred I'd left behind or even any further mention of myself. The girl sure knows how to keep a secret. Some local community support group had paid her a visit, and had even spoke of the "virtuous nature of her rescuer. If only more in our community had the compassion to take the Lord's work upon themselves" I chuckled to myself at that last bit. If only they knew. I'd have loved to see their faces.

I had no plan yet, only the urge to find my creator. I traveled the length and breadth of the country, searching through libraries and joining several, rather obscure, occult groups, looking for any mention of vampires or even the undead. Needles to say, the trail ran short very quickly. It was only a matter of chance that I heard of Derby's "most haunted city" reputation and decided to pay a visit.

The man once known as Jimmy Patterson was long since dead, ever since that night at the warehouse. I remember on that train out of Hereford, I took a pen from my luggage and jotted down a few names on the back of the crossword puzzle:

Jack O'Deely.  
Rob McKendrel.  
Jimmy Robertson.  
James Moorlan.

I am James Moorlan.  
And I Am Not Alone.


End file.
